


Only Ones Who Know

by maravilla



Series: Only Ones [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Anakin, Dom Obi-Wan, Dom/sub, Domme Padmé, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Anakin, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 11:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12506336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maravilla/pseuds/maravilla
Summary: “Now,” she says softly, sure that Anakin is completely relaxed from the blissful look on his face, the long minutes of biting at his most sensitive spots. He whines when she pulls her mouth away to start speaking, and she indulges him one more, sucking on his neck to leave a delicate purple bruise. He loves these marks, she knows, loves being able to see them later, when they aren’t able to see each other for days, when they have to return to the strain of everyday life. They ground him, remind him he’s safe – loved. “Tell me what you’d like me to do with the strap-on you bought, Anakin.”Or, the one where Anakin gets pegged.





	Only Ones Who Know

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhh.......write the sub Anakin you wish to see in the world I guess??
> 
> This was gonna be a quick 500 word PWP when I started it like a week ago but here we are 3.6k later. They use the stoplight system here, which I've used in most BDSM fics I've written in the past, and it wasn't till I'd already gotten over halfway through that I was like, do they even have stoplights in the GFFA? Would this system even make sense to these characters? And then I decided in this fic, fuck it, they do if I say they do lol. It's plausible that they have stoplights, I mean something has to control the traffic!
> 
> I haven't written a sex scene in a million years so this was practice and I decided it fuck it, I'm gonna post it. So sorry if it's choppy and disjointed, I'm still getting back into writing after a two-year break! Enjoy!

When he arrives at her apartment, she's sitting on the bed, hair still pinned in its elaborate senatorial style, but the intricate gown she had donned earlier abandoned for a much more practical nightgown. There's something in her hands and she's studying it intently, turning it this way and that, a pensive look on her face.

“Padmé,” he says, and he hates how his voice already sounds breathless. He’s still in the doorway, and he’s desperate to get his explanation out, worried that he's made her uncomfortable, worried that he should've asked her first, or explained. He turns to slide the door shut behind him, one hand running through his curls in a nervous tell. He can explain–

But she doesn't even look up. She just places the box calmly to the side, swallowing and smoothing an imaginary hair behind her ear. There's no need. Every strand is perfectly in place, pulled tight and pinned within an inch of its life. She primly crosses her legs before finally looking up to meet his gaze and patting the spot on the bed beside her.

“Good evening, Anakin,” she says, and that tone in her voice – commanding, sure, _dominant._

He doesn't answer right away, but she doesn't worry. She gives him time, which he gladly takes. He needs these moments before they begin, gathering himself, allowing himself to slip into this headspace that he so craves, where everything is silent and he is so blissful. When he answers, his gaze is downcast, limbs pliant as he crosses the room and gracefully sinks next to her, hands on his knees and posture straight as she likes it. 

“Good evening, Padmé,” he answers, voice soft and submissive. His eyes are focused on the floor and his cheeks are colored, tinted with red. The object in the box is still on his mind. 

“Where did you get this, Anakin?” she asks him, and he doesn't want to answer. He doesn't want to talk about it at all, but he can't stop the words from rolling off his tongue, wanting to answer his domme, to please her.

“I ordered it off the HoloNet, Padmé.”

She hums, and puts the box down, freeing her hands so they can tangle in Anakin’s hair instead. She positions herself until she's half-sitting, back against the headboard, and she pulls Anakin to be in her lap, running her fingers through the silky strands, petting him in the way that he so loves. 

“Why did you order it?” she questions, but Anakin is going loose beneath her steady hands and his eyes are already slipping shut. 

She ceases the petting immediately, tapping him on the shoulder. “Hey, hey,” she asks softly. “Are you okay?”

He takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders back and when he opens his eyes they're focused and sure. “Green,” he smiles softly, turning in her lap to face her and capture her in a kiss. She obliges, although she won't let him have his way for long. But she can give him this – she needs this too, the loving feel of her husband’s tongue sliding over hers, her hand steady on the back of his neck, keeping them both focused, and sure, and in the present.

Anakin needs to relinquish control. Padmé needs to take it.

She opens him up softly like this, using her free hand to place the box on the nightstand – they’ll come back to it, but for now – she brings her hand back to bunch her fingers in his soft locks as she slowly turns him on his back, crawling over him as she straddles his stomach. She’s certainly the one guiding the kissing now, no doubt about that, her mouth opening over his and nipping at his lip. He moans softly each time he feels her teeth and she can’t help but be egged on by that, grinding playfully against him. 

She moves down to mouth at his neck now, grateful that she has pinned her hair up so it won’t get in her way as she slowly makes Anakin come undone.

“Now,” she says softly, sure that Anakin is completely relaxed from the blissful look on his face, the long minutes of biting at his most sensitive spots. He whines when she pulls her mouth away to start speaking, and she indulges him one more, sucking on his neck to leave a delicate purple bruise. He loves these marks, she knows, loves being able to see them later, when they aren’t able to see each other for days, when they have to return to the strain of everyday life. They ground him, remind him he’s safe – loved. “Tell me what you’d like me to do with the strap-on you bought, Anakin.” 

She feels him tense under her, feels his muscles move as he nervously swallows beneath her lips under his jaw, and she re-positions herself again, settling herself on his side, allowing him to slip down until he can pillow his head on her chest, one hand around his side and the other back in his favorite place amongst the strands of his hair.

“I want,” he whispers, stopping short. He opens his mouth and shuts it, unable to finish his sentence. His pupils are blown, he wants everything.

“That’s right, baby boy,” she whispers, murmuring into his hair. “Tell me.” 

His eyelids slowly close as his breathing evens. He is safe here, and he can tell Padmé his fantasies, and she will love him and protect him and give him what he needs.

“I want – I want you to fuck me while I suck Obi-Wan’s cock, Padmé,” he says softly and so fast that she almost doesn’t catch it.

Oh. That’s – that’s not _that_ new, actually; Padmé has lost count of the times that she has slowly opened Anakin up while Anakin uses his mouth to please Obi-Wan, and he is relaxed and pliant to the tune of his dom and his domme’s gentle praises. She will softly move her fingers in and out of him until he is stretched and his hole is nice and open and ready for Obi-Wan’s cock. They’ll switch positions and Obi-Wan will take him and fill him and Anakin will mouth at Padmé’s cunt, licking her this way and that, tongue darting in and out as she guides him and he is so, so happy to be between his two favorite people.

Padmé fucking him though – _that’s_ new, and she feels her clit start to tingle with the thought of it.

“Of course,” she breathes out, finally answering, one hand wandering down to absentmindedly rub at herself as her other hand continues to pet at Anakin. “Of course we can do that for you, baby.”

\--

When Anakin returns to the Temple later, Obi-Wan gives no indication that Padmé has told him anything, or even that he knows where Anakin had been that evening. He simply looks up, nodding at him briefly as he continues to scroll through the datapad he’s reading. 

“I’ve left the kettle on if you’d like some tea,” he says by way of greeting, and Anakin wrinkles his nose. Obi-Wan _knows_ Anakin wouldn’t drink tea if it was the last beverage on earth but he insists on offering anyway, as he does every night when he heats up the water for his nightly cup.

“That’s okay,” Anakin answers unnecessarily as he shakes off his robe and tosses it vaguely toward his room, earning a sigh of exasperation from Obi-Wan. “I’m just going to have a shower.”

“Mmm,” Obi-Wan hums absentmindedly, continuing to read whatever it is he’s so immersed in, and taking a sip of his tea. “Enjoy.”

It drives Anakin crazy, when Obi-Wan is disengaged like this, especially when he is still so on edge from seeing Padmé earlier in the evening. All he wants is to be paid attention to and appreciated, and something as simple as Obi-Wan’s distractions frustrate him to no end. His temper flairs suddenly, the flame in his chest he tries his hardest to keep tamped down, and he stalks toward the fresher with more vigor than necessary, crossing in front of Obi-Wan when he feels a brush of his Force presence reach out with surety and intent, causing him to stop where he stands and look toward his former Master. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and there’s something about his voice that makes him want to roll around in it and stay forever. Something about it that extinguishes the flames living within.

“Yes, Master?” Anakin questions, already calming down, walking to meet Obi-Wan as he stands up and places his hands on Anakin’s hips.

“No touching yourself in the shower,” he says, the command curt and to the point and oh _stars,_ Anakin is already done for and so, so lucky, to be able to see them both in one night. 

“Yes, Master,” he answers again, aware that his voice comes out as a slight whine but he doesn’t even care. Obi-Wan is _here,_ he is paying attention to him, and Anakin loves these simple commands, as difficult in execution as they may be. It gives him a way to please Obi-Wan and carry him with him even when he’s not there, just like the marks Padmé left on his neck; together, they ground him. And to Obi-Wan, too, these things are just as important: a way of expressing care for Anakin that is a tangible thing to see and make sense of. Obi-Wan keeps his life in neatly organized compartments, all under lock and key so no one can see the true disarray beneath. But this one – the one for Anakin – he can control, and it calms him just as much as it calms his sub.

“And Anakin,” Obi-Wan starts again, hooking his fingers beneath Anakin’s chin to bring his eyes up to meet his gaze. He slowly ghosts his fingers down the soft skin on Anakin’s neck, bringing them around to tuck an errant curl behind his ear, taking in the intricate pattern of purple and red bruises left there. He sharply inhales and Anakin is so aware of his touch, it feels like bolts of electricity radiate from every fingertip. 

“Yes, Master?”

“I know about the little toy you bought.”

\--

It’s another week before the three of them have a chance to see each other again, and Anakin has been on edge since he returned from Padmé’s apartment after he divulged his fantasy. Obi-Wan hadn’t elaborated further after Anakin had crawled into bed that night, dripping wet from the fresher, droplets of water pooling on Obi-Wan’s chest. He simply asked if Anakin had touched himself, and Anakin responded that he had not, and had soon fallen asleep to Obi-Wan’s gentle murmured praises, forgetting about the earlier statement that had made him anxious the entire time he had washed himself. Obi-Wan has the most wonderful way of clearing his mind and soothing his worries away.

This night, though, they’re all in Padmé’s apartment on her gargantuan bed that she had insisted on buying after Obi-Wan entered their relationship, and Anakin is so aware of what is going to happen. They’re just kissing languidly, limbs tangled up in each other as Obi-Wan captures Anakin’s mouth and Padmé moves over Obi-Wan’s back, kissing everywhere she has access to. Her hand snakes around his front and Anakin willingly lets him go, Obi-Wan turning to kiss Padmé. Anakin loves his, loves watching them, and he knows there’s a dumb, lazy grin on his face as he finds his hand palming his erection through his pants.

This does not go unnoticed.

“Ani,” Padmé says, soft yet commanding as always, and when Obi-Wan turns around, still in her arms, his eyes are focused and sure as well. “No touching yourself yet.”

Anakin lets out an involuntary whimper but acquiesces, sticking a finger in his mouth instead as he looks up in mock-innocence. Padmé places a steady hand on his wrist.

“No sucking.”

“Yes, Padmé,” he replies wistfully, grabbing his left hand with his metal one, body shifting awkwardly as he lays there without an arm to support him.

“Shall we tie him up?” Obi-Wan asks thoughtfully, eyes wandering to the dresser where he knows their toy box is hidden; several lengths of rope lie in it, waiting to encase Anakin in beautiful patterns and pretty knots. Anakin’s cock stirs more at the thought, but that’s not for tonight.

“Actually,” Padmé starts, taking her hand from Anakin’s wrist and running it through her loose curls, her hair down as it so often isn’t, and Anakin loves her like this. “I was thinking we could try out the little present that Anakin bought. Would you like that, Anakin?”

“Yes, Padmé.” 

“Obi-Wan?” she glances at him, and he eagerly affirms.

“How are you feeling, Ani?”

“Green,” he says, and his voice is quiet but it is unwavering, and Padmé and Obi-Wan know that he is taking the time to slowly sink into his submissive side, and they use the time to ready themselves as well.

“Okay, Anakin,” Padmé says, when he’s given them confirmation that he’s ready. He’s laying on his back with his eyes closed, waiting and alert. The mattress shifts as she must get off of it to go retrieve the toy, and he shifts with the absence of her weight. Obi-Wan places a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “Obi-Wan is going to open you up, till you’re nice and ready for me. Then I’m going to fuck you while you use your mouth for Obi-Wan. How does that sound?”

Anakin nods, understanding, moving onto all fours after Obi-Wan instructs him to, eagerly awaiting Obi-Wan’s fingers at his entrance, his eyes closed and his lips in the ghost of a contented smile.

“You look so beautiful like this, Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s voice comes in his ear, and distantly, he hears the flip of a cap and assumes Obi-Wan must be slicking his fingers up to ready Anakin for when Padmé enters him. “My perfect boy.” 

“Thank you, Master,” he murmurs, content from the praise and spreading his legs further. He tenses slightly when he feels the first finger prod at his hole, teasing him and swirling around; he clenches involuntarily with surprise every time Obi-Wan adjusts.

“Shhh,” Obi-Wan coaxes, kissing his neck tenderly as he slowly slips one digit in, feeling him out and letting Anakin tense around it. “You’re doing so, so well.”

Anakin shudders and lets Obi-Wan do his work, slowly moving and prodding until he feels ready enough to slip another finger in. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful when you’re all opened up and Padmé is fucking you, so beautiful between us,” he murmurs. Anakin can’t wait. He wants so badly to be filled from both sides, made whole with his dom and his domme on either side of him, completing the puzzle. His mouth salivates at the thought of having something inside it, something to suck. He wants so badly to stick his fingers inside his mouth, just to have something to occupy the time while he waits for Obi-Wan’s dick, but he hasn’t been told that he can. He has to wait for permission.

“Please,” he whimpers, and that’s all that he can say, hips bucking as he pushes his ass further back; Obi-Wan has four fingers inside him now.

“Please, what?” he asks, and Anakin can’t – he can’t answer, he doesn’t know. _Please let me suck on my fingers. Please let me suck your dick. Please fuck me, Padmé._ He wants it all. 

“P–please,” is all he manages back, erection straining already and Padmé hasn’t even begun to fuck him yet.

“Words, dear,” Obi-Wan answers, ceasing his movements and moving around to the front. He feels another hand on his back – Padmé’s, her touch more delicate than Obi-Wan’s had been. Anakin’s eyes are open, but they’re half-lidded and downcast. “What color?”

“G–green,” he pants. “I want – Padmé, p-please f-fuck me.”

“I can do that,” she breathes, and he can feel her hands on his hips, positioning herself at his entrance. She moves her hips forward, slowly, exploratory. When the tip of the strap-on meets the sensitive tissue, open and tender, he involuntarily bucks his hips; he wants her inside him so _badly_. His mouth opens and closes towards Obi-Wan’s erect dick which is now in front of him, but Obi-Wan takes a hold of Anakin’s chin in his fingers, stopping him. Padmé moves her right arm to Anakin’s shoulder to keep him steady as she slowly eases inside of him, letting out a moan as the other end of the strap on moves into her. 

“Oh,” he sighs breathily, taken with the fact that this is not only stimulating him but also Padmé, shocks of pleasure running through his body and _please, please,_ he needs Obi-Wan’s dick in his mouth, he wants to be gagging around it, his mouth as full as his ass. Padmé picks up a rhythm now, moving faster and deeper as she’s worked out what’s she’s doing, and Anakin can’t help but arch his back as pleasure tingles inside of him from his ass throughout his chest. 

“Good boy,” she praises, fingers firm where they hold him, hips sure in their movements. It’s so much. “Making us both feel so good.”

“P-please, I’m going to –” he starts, embarrassed by how early it is, but he can’t help it, he’s so turned on. Obi-Wan shushes him by sticking a finger in his mouth which he closes around happily, licking and sucking.

“Not yet, I think,” Obi-Wan says gently, placing a hand on Anakin’s head, fisting in his hair to guide him where he wants him. “You’ve been so good, just hold out a while longer, dear one.”

“C-can I –” Anakin starts to question as soon as Obi-Wan removes the finger from his mouth, jerking his head vaguely toward Obi-Wan’s dick. Behind him, Padmé is murmuring her approval in agreement and he is going to burst any minute. 

“Yes, dear,” answers Obi-Wan, and Anakin immediately closes his lips around Obi-Wan’s cock, sucking and running his tongue up and down the shaft, swirling along the head the way he knows Obi-Wan likes. He gets into a rhythm that mirrors the one Padmé is thrusting into him with and he loves this, he _loves_ this, so full and so _loved,_ between his two favorite people. He loves when Obi-Wan fucks him and he can eat Padmé out, he loves it, but this is something new and exciting and tears are leaking at his eyes as he tongues Obi-Wan’s balls, flushing as he notices the look of pleasure on his face, as his grip on Anakin’s shoulder tightens.

He’s encouraged by this, and by Padmé behind him, and he is doing all he can to move back and let her go deeper and push the toy further inside them both while he uses his tongue to take Obi-Wan’s length. His cock is leaking something awful and he knows the second one of them touches it there will be no holding back.

“So good for us, Anakin,” Padmé murmurs, “so fucking good. Our good boy.” 

Anakin whines around Obi-Wan’s cock, working faster and faster up and down the shaft, sucking at the tip every time he reaches it, enjoying the sound Obi-Wan makes when he does.

Soon enough, Obi-Wan’s hot come is shooting into Anakin’s mouth and he eagerly swallows, nearly choking it down his throat, sucking until the last drop. Another time, he would have enjoyed lapping it up from wherever Obi-Wan spilled but today he will swallow it all. 

“Good boy,” Obi-Wan commends him, and Anakin offers a smile, eyes still hazy, feeling a bit of come on his lips. Obi-Wan leans forward to kiss him, and softly says, “you can come now.”

Padmé reaches around to grasp his erection and the moment her fingers brush against it he’s spilling everywhere, the sheets firmly soiled, and Padmé moves rapidly in and out of him as he rides out his orgasm, egged on by her sub’s eager moans and whimpers. He misses feeling her pussy clench around him, the muscles fluttering in rapidity as she orgasms, misses feeling that with his cock or his tongue, but he knows by the noises she makes that she is coming too; he wishes he could see her face. When he quiets down from the steady stream he’s letting out to slow, even, deep breaths, she slowly moves out of him, the strap on making a resounding _pop_ as it comes completely out of his sheath, and he trembles on his hands and knees. 

“Okay, Anakin,” Obi-Wan allows, and he immediately collapses from all-fours, allowing himself to be swept up in Obi-Wan’s arms and cuddled. He watches, eyes still dazed, as Padmé unhooks the harness and comes to snuggle in on his other side, hand petting his hair.

“How was that?” she asks, lips moving against his head as she kisses him softly there.

“Amazing,” he answers, eyes closed in contentment and he is completely fucked out. “I – I love you both so much,” he says, almost desperately, voice at odds with the languidness of his body.

“We love you too, Ani,” Padmé reassures him, continuing to caress him softly. Obi-Wan murmurs a noise of assent, saying the words out loud still troubles him no matter how badly he wants to be able to voice his affections.

“Just one problem,” he says after a moment, mouth quirking up on one side in a sly grin.

“What’s that?” Padmé questions, knitting her eyebrows together in concern, sharing an inquisitive glance with Obi-Wan over their lover’s head.

“Next time, I want to be on my back so I can see you both.” 

Padmé lets out a soft laugh, as Obi-Wan affectionately pats Anakin on the head. 

“I think that can definitely be arranged.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! #TeamBDSMCouldHaveSavedTheGalaxy
> 
> comments & kudos always appreciated!!


End file.
